


Pills (An Antisepticeye Story)

by DakotaTheWhale



Category: egos - Fandom, jacksepticeye
Genre: Anti - Freeform, Anti-Jack - Freeform, Dark, Demonic Possession, Demons, F/M, Jack is Not Okay, Mark is a mom friend, Mental Illness, Other, Platonic Septiplier, Some slight body horror, anti is a lil bitch, antisepticeye, darkiplier soon? Maybe?, please dont hate me, stop hurting my son
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-07-10 20:26:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 20,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15956888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DakotaTheWhale/pseuds/DakotaTheWhale
Summary: AU where Anti is a demon in Jack's head, and is only being held back by medication. What happens when he must accompany his friend to PAX?





	1. Chapter 1

__________________________________________________________________________________

_"You have to remember he needs to take these."_

_A grey bottle was placed in his hands. He shook it and heard the inner contents rattle._

_"Just one pill, at the moment you wake up every single day."_

_"What happens if he misses a day?"_

_..._

_"It's better if we don't find out..."_

_**________________________________________________________________________________** _

Jack heard his alarm clock go off and suddenly it was just another normal day for him. He begrudgingly opened his eyes and reached out to shut off the blaring noise box. 

**9:30 A.M**

He turned away from the nightstand and stuffed his face back into the pillow. The soft murmur of his neighbor mowing his lawn hummed in his ears. Did people deliberately try to wake him up  _this_  early on the weekend? Who knows. Jack groaned as he got out of his bed and headed to the bathroom. He took a good look at his disheveled appearance in the mirror. He could vaguely remember what happened last night. Bit and pieces of the night before remained, but never the full picture. However, he did remember that he was at Mark's house to play some video games. Did he drink? No, Jack tried to refrain from alcohol since it made him feel sick. The idea of him maybe taking drugs surfaced for a moment before being pushed away an an unfeasible scenario.

Hell, maybe he just slept wrong last night or stayed up too late. Well, whatever it was, Jack felt disgusting and had the undeniable urge to freshen himself up. He prepared some warm water and washed his face and hair. After drying his head with a towel, Jack heard his phone vibrating from his nightstand. There was an alert on his phone to remind him to take his medication. If it was between looking presentable or taking his medicine, Jack would take the meds and go outside looking like the Devil incarnate. 

He opened a small drawer in the nightstand and pulled out the grey pill bottle. Snapping off the cap, he put one of the bright green tablets into his hand. For his entire adult life, Jack took this medicine, yet never truly knew what it was. Some doctors said it was ADHD medicine, others said it was a mood stabilizer. But they all said the same thing: Missing a day would be detrimental and could put him at a huge risk. But for what? On occasion, he thought on intentionally skipping a day just to see what it does. However, he never did go through with his plans to do so. The pill itself was rather large and it was hard to swallow. But since he'd taken it for years, it went down like butter. 

After taking the pill, he changed into fresh clothes and made himself some breakfast. Today felt normal. True, there were more chaotic days, but today felt truly normal. Like this is how life was supposed to be. While Jack enjoyed his breakfast, he scrolled through his notifications. Text messages, tweets, requests and other things. He noticed he had several text messages from Mark from the night before.

**[11:05 P.M.] Mark: "Hey did u get home?"**

**[11:19 P.M.] Mark: "Hello??"**

**[11:40 P.M.] Mark: "Potato boy answer me :("**

**[12:35 A.M.] Mark: "Well I'm going to bed. Call me tomorrow k?"**

**[12:36 A.M.] Mark: "I mean it IS tomorrow but u know what I mean."**

Why didn't he answer Mark? What happened last night? All he remembered clearly was that he played video games with Mark for a couple hours. The fragments of his memories didn't seem to fit together. With a shrug, Jack decided to call Mark. 

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mark."

"Jack! I thought you'd never call back, you dick!" Mark chuckled.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. Guess I was tired and just went straight to sleep when I got home."

There was a beat of silence.

"When you left you were full of energy. I honestly didn't think you'd fall asleep ever."

"I was?" Jack tried to piece the timeline of events together in his head. "Honestly, Mark, I barely remember a thing that happened last night."

"Wow, really?" Mark was stunned, obviously. How could someone just... forget? "Ha, well I can summarize quickly what happened if you need me to."

"That'd be appreciated." Jack smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

~Flashback~

"Jack!" Mark shouted from the living room, "Did ya' find the batteries?"

"Not yet!" Jack replied from in the garage. 

"Well hurry up, ya' big doof!" 

After another minute of scrambling and the clatter of a drawer full of tools hitting the ground, Jack ran back into the living room with 4 AA batteries. Sweat coated his face and he was breathing heavily. "You okay?" Mark laughed, "Heard you causing a commotion out there." Jack's face scrunched up into a scowl, which ended up looking more like an awkward frown. "You got so many drawers out there, I had to search all of em'!" 

"I did say to look in the red one." Mark replied, holding back laughter.

That did it for Jack. He let out a mini war cry and jumped onto Mark on the couch. "I'm colorblind your arse!" Mark only howled from laughter as they play wrestled on the couch. Now, both of them were sweaty and disgusting. And it was only 7:00. "Any games in mind?" Mark asked, still trying to catch his breath from laughing. "Uh, what do ya' got?" Jack responded. Mark shuffled over to a box full of video games. "I got Halo, Splatoon, Call of Duty, Gang Beasts, Minecraft, God of War, Dark Souls," "Ooh! Dark Souls!" Jack replied quickly, "You sure? I don't think you can handle this much rage." 

"Try me." Jack responded flatly.

About 2 hours and one noise complaint from the neighbors later, Mark finally rage-quit. "Ah-ha!" cheered Jack, "and  _you_  thought  _I_  couldn't handle this game!" "Whatever," Mark scoffed, "I still got a better score than you." "Don't care!  _I_  didn't rage-quit.  _You_  did!" They both laughed. "So, what now?" Jack asked. "I don't know. Wanna just watch T.V or something?" "Yeah, that sounds okay." Mark picked up the remote and flipped through stations, periodically being stopped by Jack to watch whatever movie they scrolled by. With the occasional fight over the remote, they both settled down and just enjoyed each other's company.

Mark looked over at the clock. 10:55 P.M. "Hey, Jack?" he turned to Mark with a face full of popcorn. "Shouldn't you be heading home soon?" Jack laughed. "Ha! It's only 11 o'clock, Mark! I ain't a pussy!" he spit popcorn everywhere. "Well, maybe  _I_  wanna turn in early tonight. Amy and I have brunch tomorrow." Mark's exhaustion was clearly visible. Jack then curtly nodded and stood up, laying the popcorn bowl on Mark's counter. "Well, I'll see ya' soon, Mark!" "You sure you don't need a ride?" Mark asked. "Nah! It's just a few minute walk, I'll be fine!" It really wasn't clear if Jack was being so loud and confident because he  _wasn't_  tired or he was just so exhausted, that his body went into 'Irishman Autopilot.' "Okay then. Text me when you're home, alright?" "Yup! G'night!" 


	3. Chapter 3

Jack sat in silence listening to Mark. "So.. I just left? And that was it?"

"Yeah. To be honest, I got a little worried."

"Oh Mark! I'm blushing." Jack laughed.

"Pssh! Okay 'Mr. I'm-So-Tough-Irishman.'" 

Yet, the unknown absence and unresponsiveness from Jack wasn't normal. Usually he'd always reply; especially if it was Mark. 

"So, did you go anywhere after you left?" Mark inquired.

"No? I don't think so."

"Eh, maybe you just got lost on your way home and once you got home you were dog-tired."

"Yeah, maybe."

The two talked some more about how Mark was going to brunch with Amy and about upcoming conventions. They both planned to be at PAX West up in Seattle along with a bunch of other Youtubers. Mark and Jack had planned on rooming together since Amy decided not to go, so most of their talk was about what hotel they'd be staying at, what panels they'd attend, and other things of the sort. PAX West was coming up faster than expected. In fact, it was only about 1 and a half weeks away. Jack had a small calendar right above his computer covered in Septiceye Sam stickers with the date of PAX circled. After a while, Mark ended up having to leave for brunch. Jack, now alone, decided to get some of his recordings done for PAX ahead of time.

 Mark decided to rent a small van and they'd carpool up to the convention. At the start, Jack wasn't on board with the idea, but as Mark explained it, he became more comfortable. He'd do most of the driving while Jack did the navigating. And it really wasn't that long of a car ride. It was around 7 hours, give or take depending on rest stops. Jack did have most of his things packed as well. All he needed was to refill his medication just enough for the three days. 

Jack spent most of the day recording and working on videos. He tried to get as many videos done, in case of a longer stay. Robin was fine with him sending a heap of videos because of PAX season. But he always felt a tinge of guilt about piling work onto him. Robin insisted he was cool with it but Jack always tried to lighten the work load. Jack read his phone clock. 12:54 A.M. Jesus! Had he been working all day?! He took a small breath and closed his computer; he did a lot of work today. But the one thing plaguing his mind was the unusual occurrences that happened the night before. Why didn't he respond to Mark? So many questions and so little answers. The tapestry of what happened last night was barely being sewn together by a few key strings of detail. 

He figured if he spent less time worrying, maybe the answers would be revealed in time. 


	4. Chapter 4

**________________________________________________________________________________**

_"Mr. McLoughlin, I understand your concerns about the medication. But I promise you that this medication will help your son. He is 18 now, I see no reason why he shouldn't take it."_

_"Because he'll never learn to live without it! I don't want him self-sufficient on some fucking antidepressant or whatever!"_

_"It's not an antidepressant, Mr. McLoughlin. Like me and the council have said, It is to help contain you son's.. breakdowns. I promise you the medication will not hinder him severely in any way."_

_"Well, what about side effects? I heard the council say something about those."_

_"Yes, all medications can have side effects depending on the person. This one, however, has very few. The only major one I've seen is memory loss. Not like permanent memory loss, but more like bits and pieces are missing, and you can't see the bigger picture."_

_He held the bottle. "So. This'll make him normal..."_

_"As normal as we can make him."_

**________________________________________________________________________________**

Jack woke up the next morning and repeated his daily routine. Wake up, take pills, wash face, eat breakfast. record, sleep, repeat. This went on for the next week until PAX. It wasn't until about 2 days before he and Mark had to leave, Jack refilled his prescription. This wasn't your normal everyday trip to the drug store though. He had to go to a special doctor in the city and get them personally from him. In hindsight, he should have done this earlier but no harm no foul, right?

Jack walked into the tall building, revolving doors welcoming him inside. The interior was white and blue, and windows covering the outer wall. The entire lobby reeked of sterilizer and hand wipes. It was essentially a hospital, so it did seem fitting. He walked over to a small table where a woman was typing away at her computer. The woman looked up at Jack and smiled. "Ah, Mr. McLoughlin! Do you have an appointment?" she asked. Her voice was cheerful and noticeably high pitched. It stung Jack a little that the staff knew him and greeted him as if he was a mutual acquaintance. "Yeah, I just gotta pick up some medication." he replied. The receptionist nodded her head and picked up a phone next to her. "If you'd just wait over by the couches, Doctor Wright will be with you shortly." she told Jack before proceeding to talk with the doctor.

He walked over to the couches and picked up a magazine. There were others in the lobby, and one lady in particular caught Jack's eyes. An older woman, probably in her late 60's sat across from him. She was accompanied by a younger man, who was probably her son. She seemed to be looking at Jack up and down. It was genuinely a bit awkward, but Jack just gave a soft smile. "Do I know you?" The woman asked, "No.. I don't think so, ma'am." he replied softly. "No, no. I'm almost sure I know you. I remember reading an article about someone who looked like you" Jack blushed. "What article?" He inquired. The lady thought for a moment before looking back to him. "It was a bulletin about this man who played video game. He looks a lot like you. 'Jack-Special-Eye' If  I recall." "Oh! You mean 'Jacksepticeye?" He responded. "Yes, yes. That spunky Irish fellow." She laughed.  The brief conversation was cut off by a man calling his name. Jack waved goodbye to the sweet lady before heading towards the man by the elevator.   
"Seán! It's good to see you again." The man replied as he held out his hand. "Dr. Wright," Jack shook his hand, "The same to you." The two stepped into the elevator. Dr. Wright had been the one who supplied him with his special medication. He'd been going to him since he was in his teens. Dr. Wright was significantly taller than him and his blonde hair shined through the elevator window. The elevator stopped and the two walked out and into an office. Jack and Dr. Wright sat across from each other at a table positioned near a wall which was a giant window.  "So," Dr. Wright looked at his computer already opened and running in the desk. "I assume you need a refill?" Jack shuffled his hands. "Yes. I'm going on a road trip with some friends and I need to get enough to last me a couple days." Dr. Wright sighed. "Jack, I'd give you the refill you needed but I'm afraid we've not ordered a supply of your pills." Jack's breathing hitched. "And you made this appointment quite abruptly, so we didn't have time to order anything in full." Jack seemed a little unsettled. He hadn't had been out of these pills for years and the thought of not having enough was a troubling thought. "Do you have any left here at all?" He asked. Dr. Wright looked at his computer once more, checking the stocks. "We have enough for 1 day."

"I'll take it." 

Dr. Wright sighed once again, "Jack, please try to understand I-"   
"No, it's fine. I'll manage." He interrupted.

A beat. The two were shrouded in uncomfortable silence.

"I'll have them delivered to you by tomorrow..." He placed a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Please try to be careful. And don't forget to take the medication." His voice was stern yet compassionate and caring. He genuinely cared about Jack's safety. The warmth of the Doctor was an almost unknown feeling to him since he'd left home all those years ago.

After some more brief conversation, Jack left the office and drove home. The thought still buzzed on his head. What happened if he forgot to take the medication? What would Mark see happen?

What  _would_  happen?


	5. Chapter 5

Jack looked at the luggage on his bed. He counted the pills and the number of days left. He'd be two days without his medication. And at a convention with thousands of people! He figured if he maybe didn't take it the day he would drive with Mark, he could play it off as being tired or grumpy. Then he'd have enough to use at the convention. Jack picked up the almost empty pill bottle and shook it. Yeah, it was about as empty and hollow as the dread that plagued his mind. He left in two days. Two very, very short days.   
 _"What if.."_  he thought,  _"What if I didn't take the medicine tomorrow just to see what it's like?"_ The idea was worth the shot. If it meant not having to be unpleasant at PAX, then he'd try.

The rest of Jack's day was more prep for PAX, some planning with Mark and playing video games. By the time nightfall arrived, Jack's anxiety peaked. He was nervous and jumpy through the night until he went to bed. When he finally went to sleep, Jack could only try to mentally prepare himself for tomorrow.

——————

The next morning arrived and Jack intentionally slept in a little longer. When he finally got up, he started to reach for the pill bottle. He hesitated and stopped himself. God, the rebellion felt kinda good after all these years. He carried on with his morning and went to make his morning coffee. While he prepared the coffee, his phone vibrated with his pill notification. He dismissed it with minimal hesitation.

Thirty minutes into the day, and he still felt okay. A good start.

More time passed, and Jack was on the couch scrolling through his phone. He noticed his hand was much more shaky than normal. It could have just been a withdrawal symptom of the medication. So he shrugged it off and continued on. Soon enough, Noon came. Aside from this new shakiness, he felt pretty okay.  He decided to call up Mark and see if they could sort out any last minute details for the trip.

"Hey, Jack!" Mark yelled, "Y'Alright?"   
"H-Hi Mark!" The stutter was new. Maybe it was because he hadn't talked much all day? "Yeah, E-Everything's fine. Just finishing up s-some preparation for Robin when I'm gone."   
"Well that's good. Ethan's got some work to do also. He seemed pretty stoked for all these projects." Jack blanked for a second. It felt like he couldn't form words. Like his brain just turned off. "Uh... Jack?" The silence went both ways. Jack's delayed response was uncanny. "What? Oh. Sorry, Mark. H-Having some 'convention anxiety,' heh."   
"It's alright ya goof! We've been to tons of these, why is this one any different?"

Jack couldn't tell him. He'd judge and maybe even cut him off. "Dunno. E-Everything's just kinda a blur. Probably just trying to stay caught up made me a bit loony." They both laughed.  "Well, don't worry. How's about I come pick you up so you don't have to drive to my place?" Mark asked. "R-Really? Mark, you don't gotta do that! I'll be fine." "Nonsense!" Mark retorted, "It'll save you some time." "Don't you think it'll look a tad e-eerie that you're taking me and a luggage in a white van?" Jack laughed. "My van is certainly not a kidnapper's van! It's a party van." "Sure." Jack snickered. The two talked some more before Mark had to leave. Jack had some time to reflect on this new stutter. He opened the notes app in his phone:

\- Shaking  
\- Stutter

He thought maybe if he kept track, he'd know what to do. But did Mark catch on to the stutter? He'd never had one before so hopefully it wasn't off-putting.


	6. Chapter 6

_Honk! Honk!_

Mark waited in Jack's driveway obnoxiously honking the van's horn. He hadn't responded to Mark's endless notifications and calls. A few minutes passed before Jack burst through his front door with his luggage. He quickly locked the door, his hands moving uneasily. The shaking was incredibly abnormal for Jack. Mark rolled his eyes and stepped out of the van to help his friend. 

As he approached, he noticed Jack looked surprisingly more pale than usual. "You alright, Jack?" he asked as he picked up the luggage. Jack shrugged and plastered a weak smile on his face. "Yeah, just tired." "Guess I should let you sleep instead of me blaring music, huh?" Jack perked up. "Aw, Mark, you don't gotta do that. I.." he paused. "I don't want to ruin this for ya.'" Mark smiled warmly. "Hey, if you need to sleep it's totally okay. You don't look like you've slept at all." Mark put the luggage into the back seat of the van and Jack climbed in. He sprawled himself onto a row of seats. "You make yourself comfortable, okay?" Mark told him. "I'll wake you up when we hit a pit stop." "Psh! Who s-said I need sleep! An Irishman never sleeps!" The two chuckled before heading on the road. 

________________________________________________

The truth is, Jack didn't sleep the night before. God, he wanted to drift off right now. But he couldn't risk having to see again what he saw the night before. 

Right after Jack dozed off, he fell into a strange dream that progressively became a nightmare. 

_Jack woke up in a cold, dark place. He couldn't see anything else around him except for a faint green light around 20 feet in front of him. He felt drawn towards it, but also scared. The light seemed to emit a warmth he so desperately needed. His limbs were numb and every movement was a struggle. He clawed his dead-panned body to the light. As soon as he was within reach of the light, it scattered. In the air around him, hundreds of eyes appeared. Eyes of all shapes and sizes glowing a sickly bright green. The light was now almost blinding and the eyes moved closer and closer to him. Jack's heart quickened. 'Whispers' from the eyes resonated in his ears. He couldn't make out any words from the thousands--no; millions of voices talking all at once. "Stop! Please stop!" he cried out in distress. He covered his ears and screamed. Suddenly, the voices stopped. Jack opened his eyes slightly. A figure.. it looked just like him. But the same green glow surrounded him. Still in his trance of numbness, Jack couldn't move. The figure walked closer, and the green glow only grew fiercer with each step it took. He felt the light diminish and the figure was consumed by shadows. His body was lifted into the air and held by an invisible force. The shadowed figure, still in a form that resembled himself, reached out a dark hand. It grabbed his neck and shadowy tentacles began to encircle him. Jack squirmed and moved, trying to get free.  The tentacles opened his mouth and shot down his throat. Jack's muffled screams pierced the air as the tentacles burned his throat. He slowly felt himself fade away, and the figure in front of him laughed. A wicked and sadistic laugh._

_Then blackness._

He woke up with a yelp, clutching his throat. There was an after burn that seemed to linger. It felt so real. Was it real? There were tears streaming down his face and a heat burned in his cheeks. He turned to the clock. 

**2:45 A.M**

There was no way he'd sleep after that. He didn't want to. He sat in stunned silence for what seemed like an eternity. The darkness around him felt even more ominous and intimidating. Jack took a deep breath before standing up and walking into his bathroom. He splashed his face a couple times, regaining his composure. 

After a few minutes, he flopped back onto his bed and pulled out his phone. If he wasn't going to sleep, he'd at least try to occupy the time in any way he could. 


	7. Chapter 7

It was around 12:00 PM. Mark and Jack had been on the road for 3 hours. Mark kept his music low as to not disturb his friend's 'slumber.' Jack laid curled up on the front row of seats with a large green blanket coating his body. His body was facing the seat, so when Mark turned around to check on him, he'd be met with a mop of messy green hair. Mark continued to quietly hum to the tune of Sweet Caroline. 

He pulled the van over to the side of the road at a gas station. "Jack," he shook his shoulder under the assumption he was sleeping. "C'mon buddy. Stretch your legs a little you haven't moved for hours. " He didn't move.  "Let's go, Jack. We wont stop for a bathroom break for another 4 hours." Though against his wishes, Jack begrudgingly sat up. For the first time, Mark had a clear look at his face. The bags under his eyes were more prominent than usual and his eyelids were puffy and red. "Have you been.. crying?" Mark asked with clear worry in his voice. "Uh.. No. It's probably my allergies." Mark sighed an took the blanket off of his shoulders. "I think you should go wash your face. Maybe you'll feel better." Jack nodded and walked into the gas station.

He was hit with a wave of cigarette smoke and gasoline the moment he went through the doors. Faint country music whispered in the air, and the sound of a rusty table fan accompanied it. There were 4 people in the store when Jack arrived. A tall and somewhat chubby man with a dark black beard at the cash register, two teenagers talking while grabbing candy off shelves and a young, fair-skinned cashier. He thought about just walking out. This feeling of not wanting to be around too many people was new and frightening. He'd always been an extrovert and he loved to talk to people. After some mental preparation, he pulled himself away from the front of the store and into the bathroom. 

The lock of the door echoed in his ears. His head was pounding from lack of sleep and dehydration. Mark did leave him with five dollars to get something inside while he went to fuel up the van. Yet, he didn't want to eat anything. There was a lingering feeling of nausea settling in his stomach and his mouth was drier than the Sahara. He turned on the faucet and splashed some water onto his face, drinking some of it up in the process, and blindly grabbed a paper towel to dry. When he rose his head again, he wasn't met with the blue eyes he knew.

They were a filthy neon green. 

 

*A/N: Yeah its a bit short. But hey. Cliffhangers*


	8. Chapter 8

_"God.. Where is he?"_ Mark thought as he impatiently looked at his watch. He leaned against the side of the van looking at the stagnant activity of the store. He could see the silhouette of the cashier and an individual at the counter, but it wasn't Jack. Now, Mark would have called or texted him but Jack never took his phone inside. A few more minutes passe, and still no Jack. He rolled his eyes and pulled the van into a parking space near the front doors.  _"Maybe he's just having trouble picking out what candy he wants."_

_____________________________________________________________________

His head was pounding as he stared into his corrupt reflection. It still mimicked his movements but the eyes were still that bright green. Every breath he took seemed pained and blackness began to throb into the corners of his vision. Jack stepped away from the mirror and into the cold cement wall behind him; never once breaking eye contact. It wasn't until he hit the wall when he heard a loud static ring in his ears. The thousands of unintelligible whispers echoed and clawed at his skull.

 Just like the ones from his dream.

He held his ears. This was playing out the same way it had in the dream. That only meant the worst was yet to come. He didn't want to physically see that shadowy figure crawl out of the mirror and do what it did to him before. The thought itself sent shivers down his spine. However, this time, the voices became quieter and he could make out some words before it was overlapped by another's.

_"Still here.."_

_"Your fault.."_

_"Can't save.."_

_"Run."_

_"Your fault.."_

_"Puppet.."_

_"Your fault.."_

_"Too late.."_

_"YOUR FAULT.."_

_"It's ov-YOUR FAULT.."_

**_"It's all your fault."_ **

The assault of voices grew louder again until the words were coming out his own mouth. Every word he had heard was being incoherently mumbled under his breath. If he'd been anywhere else, people would have thought he was crazy.

_Knock, knock._

Too bad there were other people. The world around him seemed muffled and blurry. As if he was about to lose consciousness. Yet, he heard a faint familiar voice, "Jack? You in there?" 

Of course it was Mark.

Jack could barely stand at this point. He slid down to the cold tile floor and buried his face into his knees. And even the whispers were coming back. What fun.

_____________________________________________________________________

Mark tried to wiggle the door handle. It was locked an Jack couldn't seem to hear him. The people in the store stared at him an he tried to unsuccessfully open the bathroom door. "Jack, come on. Stop messing around! You've been in there for twenty minutes." He grunted and tried to push open the door again but to no avail. 

He was scared and he had a right to be. His friends hadn't been acting like this before. Neither has he gotten con anxiety before. Last time Mark checked, Jack and Signe were together and happy. He would have known if they'd broken up. The small cashier from the front has tapped him on the shoulder, interrupting his thoughts. "Can I ask why you're so determined to open the door?" she asked quietly. Mark was easily a foot taller than her and she had to jerk her head up just to see Mark's face. "My friend is in there. He.. He hasn't been feeling well and I don't know if he passed out." The woman frowned and went back to the cash register. She grabbed a small purple lanyard with a set of keys attached to it. She then held it out to Mark. "Here, After he's out just put the keys back up on the counter, okay?" she smiled. Mark took the keys and smiled back. "Thank you. Sorry about all this." he chuckled. The woman shook her head. "It's no trouble. Maybe he's car sick." 

"Maybe."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO, A huge thanks to @Nightfury_Obsessed on Wattpad for helping write this. They're a great writer and I suggest you check out thier Tumblr/Wattpad for more great Septic Ego content

 

The whispering felt louder than it ever had. Jack covered his ears, and his eyes burned from crying. The loudness felt numbing, as it delivered a steady convulsion to the rest of his body.. Alarms in his body were sounding off and the voices only multiplied in magnitude. He could hear Mark fumbling with the door but he never saw him enter the room. Still, Jack looked around in hopes of seeing Mark come through the door.

He wasn't coming.

Jack looked around but found that he was unable to move. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as if someone was breathing onto the back of his neck. Yet he was all alone.

_"Struggling is futile..."_

Where was the voice coming from?

 _"No one can see or hear me besides you,"_  Jack's chin was forcibly jerked upwards, like someone had grabbed it.  _"Now that I have your attention, how's about we have a little chat."_

His entire body felt frozen in place, as if he was being pinned to the wall.

 _"You're mine, Sean. Now be a good puppet and.. Stop. Squirming."_ With the last two words, Jack received a sharp jab to the gut as some sort of emphasis. His vision began to go black, as he felt the distance grow between his physical body and his consciousness.

Footsteps drew closer to his now shell of a body. He suddenly began to regain control of his limbs, feeling pins and needles under his skin. Soft mumbles began to wiggle its way into his brain, connecting the body kneeling in front of him to the low and buttery voice that matched it.

"Mark," he whimpered softly through choked up sobs, realizing that he was himself again. He heard the voice in his head growl, almost being emitted in his own throat. Mark hugged him and his warm body was a stark contrast to his own freezing skin. Jack returned the hug, crying and muttering apologies. Mark could only console his friend and tell him 'It's okay.' The voice in his head seemed to have left for the time being and gave him a moment of peace with the only person who could really comfort him.

After their long hug was over, Mark held Jack's shoulders as if a father would to his son. "Jack.." he started, "You gotta tell me what's going on. You've never acted like this before and now you had a mental breakdown in a gas station bathroom!" Though Mark's voice raised in volume, it wasn't out anger. It was out of concern and genuine care.

He wanted to tell him. He really did. It was just too risky to put his best friend in danger to whatever the hell was happening inside his head. Even if he did, would Mark's opinion on him change? They've been friends for years and the mere thought of losing him made him panic. But dammit, he was the only person who  _really could_  help him. Jack opened his jaw to ask for help but something wouldn't let him. His entire mouth went numb.

"Everything's _fine_..." 

That wasn't him. Yet, it sounded just like him. As if he was being mimicked by his own brain. After the words involuntarily came out, he felt a rush of cold flow over him and it almost made him pass out. Mark helped him stand up and walk him out of the bathroom. Jack's movements were slow and weak and his face was pale as the tile in the bathroom. As they left through the doors of the gas station, Mark handed the lanyard back to the cashier with a small wave. She waved back, concerned about what had happened to that green-haired man in the bathroom.

Jack climbed into the van and instantly laid back down. Mark didn't sing or even try to talk to Jack for the rest of the car ride. They didn't stop again until they arrived at the hotel a little past midnight. Mark turned around to Jack but saw that he was sleeping. He was actually sleeping. Mark smiled and quietly got out of the car. He went into the hotel, with Jack still resting in the car. A man welcomed him at the desk and asked for his name. 

"Actually," Mark said looking at the van in the parking lot  "we won't need that room until tomorrow morning if that's okay."

 


	10. Chapter 10

*A/N: A slight trigger warning for abuse/mention of abuse*

Orange light filled the van, a streak of it over Jack's eyes. Mark laid asleep across the two front seats with a shirt over his head. Jack's eyes fluttered open to the melody of songbirds. It felt peaceful. A huge contrast from the chaos and calamity from yesterday's events. His entire body felt sore like he had just worked out. 

Jack just embraced the soothing silence he probably wouldn't have for very much longer. 

_**"Tranquil, is it not?"** _

Speak of the devil. 

 _ **"You know,"**  _it hissed,  _ **"I wasn't too keen about your 'boy-toy' ruining our fun..."**_  Jack's eyes darted around looking for the shadowy figure that usually accompanied the vile whispers. But he found nothing. It was now just a voice inside his head.  Even so, he was still afraid of what it would be able to do. 

 _"So, you're now just inside my brain now?"_ Jack thought to himself, communicating with this other 'thing' in his skull.

 ** _"Well, the last encounter was so rudely interrupted, I thought maybe we could talk one-on-one without any_ distractions _..."_**  it clearly meant Mark. His heart quickened its pace and felt a lump form in his throat. 

 _"You won't hurt him, right?"_ he hesitantly asked.  _ **"I have no intentions to do anything to your friend,"**_ Jack released a sigh of relief,  _ **"For now."**_  The tension returned. Too bad it was so short lived. 

 _"So.. what_ are  _you?"_ Jack asked.  ** _"That's an easy question. I assumed you already knew though. I'm_ you. _"_** _"What?! You're nothing like me!"_ Jack exclaimed.  _ **"Au contraire,"**_ it purred in reply,  _ **"We're two sides of the same coin. I am you and you are me. The only thing that truly separates us is that I actually**_ **embrace** _**who I was supposed to be."**_

What was  _that_  supposed to mean? This  _thing_  couldn't be him; why would they even be remotely similar?  _ **"I can answer that."**_  Oh, right. Still in his head.  _"What was I 'supposed to be' then?"_ Jack inquired hesitantly. _ **"To put it in words you would understand, I'm your potential. Those pills were the only thing holding us back to being who we were meant to be."**_ The way the voice spat out 'pills' as if it was a degrading word only worried him more.  **" _We could have been GODS_."**

 _"Gods?! What would have made us gods?  You're just some voice in my brain and I'm a YouTuber!"_ He retorted.  ** _"Don't misinterpret my words, puppet."_ it hissed, ** _ **"I have power beyond your wildest imaginations. I had a vessel... I had everything I needed. But your sad excuse for a father wanted to contain me--To throw me aside."**  _The voice grew louder with every word. Jack stiffened. The mentioning of his father resurfaced bad memories. 

 _ **"Hit a nerve, did I?"**  _It sneered,  **"Everything he did to you, I felt too. I was your rage when your father came into your room reeking of alcohol and beating your brother senseless with a belt. The time he slammed you to the bed, calling you a freak and threatening to give you stitches for trying to stand up to him?"** It paused, noticing Jack began crying again.  _ **"We could have eradicated him. You could have saved your brother the trauma and maybe even your mother wouldn't have left you to fend for yourself."** "Stop.. please.." _Jack pleaded, the words slipping from his lips. Mark stirred but didn't wake up.  ** _"I know you heard me though. You knew I was telling you to let me handle the situation..."_**

There was a familiar pressure in his temples. It was the same pain from the gas station. He grabbed at his hair, with tears streaming down his face. He pressed his head against the window of the van, and for the first time, he got a good look at what this voice looked like reflected in the window. One eye had ebony black scerlas with a piercing green pupil and the other was the same sickening green with his own blue pupil. Dark eye circles outlined its eyes, and contrasted from how revoltingly pale its skin appeared to be. Jack tried to reach out his hand to get Mark's attention but as he did, an invisible force stopped him. 

 _" **I can see that you aren't wanting to talk anymore. Fine, I'll play along. Let's just see how long you last before everything falls apart. You can't hold me off forever."**   _With that last statement, the voice faded away. Then Jack's arm was released from its hold. It unbalanced himself and he fell directly onto Mark's chest. He woke up with a start, rubbing his eyes. "Jack?" he yawned. "What time is it?" he squinted at the dashboard's clock. His eyes were still blurry from crying. "It's like, 7:30?" After Mark looked at the clock, he groaned rather loudly. "Well, since we're both up, how about we check into the hotel?" Jack curtly nods and helps grab his and Mark's luggage's out of the trunk.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11:

Jack flopped onto the queen-sized bed with a big thump, as Mark dragged the other two suitcases into the room. PAX was in just under a day and he had the proper amount of medication he needed to survive tomorrow. After that, he wouldn't have to hear that  _thing's_  voice ever again. Now he just has even more of a reason to take the pills. "Jack, can you give me a hand with these bags?" Mark asked. "Nah. You're strong enough to get em." he replied with a smirk. Mark groaned and lifted his own suitcase onto the other bed, tossing Jack's onto the floor. "You can unpack your own bag. I'm not your mom." "Well, you certainly do act like one sometimes." he laughed.

Mark rolled his eyes and put his clothes in a drawer. Jack, however, didn't move. Though the looming threat of another takeover hung heavy over his head, he still tried to think of the positives: He'd get to see his friends,  he'd get to meet fans and maybe even collab with other YouTubers. He could also attend panels and just grow closer with the people he loved. 

For once, he truly felt at peace. 

The rest of the day was spent lounging around and playing video games. Mark had ended up going to go grab dinner for the two of them, leaving Jack alone again. Of course Jack was scared. This voice followed a pattern of striking while he was alone and helpless. His unease grew as time went on without Mark's return. He looked through his bag, searching for his pills. He couldn't take the risk of Mark finding out. Out of habit, he shook the grey prescription bottle, only hearing one lone pill rattling around. If he took this now, he wouldn't have one for at PAX. Weighing the pros and cons, he hesitantly put the pill bottle back into his bag. Just as he placed it back into his bag he heard a voice laugh faintly in the back of his mind. It was abruptly cut off by Mark entering the room and calling Jack's name. 

Mark had some grocery bags in hand, along with a bag of McDonald's. "There wasn't much around, so I guess our 'fine dining' is limited to this." Mark chuckled as he set the bag onto Jack's bed. He noticed Mark was sweating profusely, as evident by his shirt collar being a shade darker than the rest of his shirt. "Did you walk all the way to the store?" Jack questioned, "You could've used the van, you know." "I thought I'd save some gas money. Plus we've been sitting for like... 14 hours. Might as well stretch my legs a bit." Mark responded with a small laugh. His happy mood was the only thing that made Jack smile. Everything may have been utter shit around him, but seeing his smile made everything seem a bit better. 

The two laid down on their separate beds and just relaxed. "Jack?" Mark asked softly, "Can I ask you something?" He turned his head towards Mark. "Yeah, what's up?"

"What happened at the gas station?"

Jack froze. Of course he brought it up. "I.. Uh.." he paused and looked for an excuse. "I guess I had a panic attack?" His anxious tone only perpetuated the lie. "Tell me the truth, Jack." Mark replied sternly, "I walked into that bathroom and saw you crying and with your head curled into your knees. You kept muttering things under your breath too." He sighed. "Shit like that makes me worry. You can tell me. I won't judge." Jack shook his head and turned his body to face the wall. "Mark, I can't. You just wouldn't understand."  _"I can't put you in danger.."_  he added in his head. He looked at the clock: 8:30 P.M. "I'm gonna turn in early tonight, okay?" he said quietly. Mark nodded his head and stood up from the bed. "Well, I'm gonna shower and eat something. I won't stay up too late either." Jack gave him a weak thumbs up and then buried his face into the pillow. Once he heard the click of the bathroom door, Jack let the floodgates open. He was a mess and he couldn't keep up this facade much longer. Especially not in front his fans. 

And especially not in front of Mark.

 

A/N: A consistent upload schedule? Hah! You mistake me for someone confidence! Well anyways, I've been working on this all weekend. Also this upcoming week is going to be hectic for me. I may be able to upload one more part this week. But once I get through this week I should be able to churn out some more content.


	12. Chapter 12

Moonlight flitted through the window above Mark's bed. He was completely under the covers, undisturbed by passing cars from the street below. In the other bed, Jack constantly stirred and twisted his body. He was coated in a thick layer of sweat and his breathing was erratic. When he opened his eyes, he wasn't in the hotel room. He was in the same empty void from his first night terror. His breath came out in a cold puff, and his foot steps echoed off the non-existent walls.

"Where are you?" Jack screamed out with a sudden boost of confidence. Wisps of giggles wrapped around him with no definite source. This was the first time Jack had actually tried finding out where this 'thing' was. The giggles managed to form a source around 20 feet in front of him; the same one from the gas station too. Jack stepped back out of fear, but after a few steps, he was frozen in place. The figure then walked towards him. A shadowy finger reached out for his chin, forcing him to look at the monster straight in the eyes. 

 _"Oh, Jack. It's so nice to meet you without anyone to interfere~"_ it purred,  _"Now if you behave this time, we can have a civil conversation and I won't have to make any rash decisions."_ The figure moved his hand down and forcefully sat Jack on the 'ground'. It also sat down too. This seemed too casual for some shadowy evil creature but it was the least it could do with the limited time they had together. Jack looked at his surroundings. "Where did you take me?" he asked.  _"Nowhere, actually"_ it replied,  _"You haven't moved from your bed at all. We're just in your subconsciousness."_

"My... Subconsciousness? How did you..." 

 _"This is where I've resided for the past 28 years. As a_ prisoner  _in_  my own _body..."_

" _Your_ body? Are you insane?" Jack exclaimed. "You're inside my head! This is  _my_  body!"

The figure only smiled. It wasn't a friendly smile though. It was sinister and lacking and sort of empathy. It almost seemed amused at Jack's anger.  _"Well, would 'something inside your head' be able to do this?"_  As if on cue, Jack felt his arm snap. It twisted a way it physically shouldn't be allowed to. He screamed out in pain, feeling every bone and muscle in his arm sting and burn. 

The figure rolled its eyes.  _"Oh, do stop your whining,"_ with that, his arm was mended.  _"You really are pathetic."_ Jack rubbed his arm, still stunned from the sudden pain he had felt.

 _"Anyways, I assume you have some questions. And from the kindness in my heart, I'm giving you a chance to ask."_ Jack looked away from the figure, still unnerved by the whole situation. "Am I allowed to make a request?" he asked quietly.  _"If it's within boundaries."_

"Show me what you  _really_  look like."

The figure paused for a moment before shrugging. The shadowy figure slowly formed into a frame that resembled Jack but there were key differences. It almost matched what he had saw in the van the day before. Sickly pale skin, mismatched pupils and a fanged toothy grin. It wore a black shirt and ripped black jeans. Jack cringed and averted his gaze from the new figure in front of him. "Do you have a name?" he mumbled. There's a small pause while the figure thought.  _"Well, I'm basically the 'Anti-You' so for your sake, how about we go with 'Anti'"_  This newly dubbed 'Anti' was an incredible smooth-talker. Able to hide psychotic malice behind his fluid speech. Jack was too intimidated by Anti's presence to spit out any questions. 

 _"I can tell you want to leave. Unfortunately, I also have some things I'd like to accomplish. I hope you don't mind being stuck in here for a while."_  Anti's voice grew considerably more conniving and filled with ill intent. "Wha--" Jack blurted out before being forced down to the ground under Anti's grip. His vision grew blurry and blacked around the edges. He began to lose consciousness as Anti gripped his throat tighter and tighter. Soon everything around his faded into the same black as the infinite void around him. Static filled his ears and his heartbeat drummed in his chest. Then, nothingness consumed him.

_"See you soon..."_


	13. Chapter 13:

It was cold.

Jack woke up to Mark next to his bed, gripping his shoulders. His hair was wet and unkempt and he had no shirt on. "Jack! Get up! We gotta leave in 30 minutes." 

He sprung out of the bed, only to fall straight down to the floor. A stinging sensation built in his chest. He clutched the spot on his pectoral and slowly got up. He quickly made his way into the bathroom and took off his top. There was a large gash from his collarbone to right over his heart. Dried blood had seeped into the shirt and his hands were stained a faded red. Looking to the mirror, Jack was met with Anti's reflection and his smug grin. "What the hell did you  _do_?" Jack snarled,  _"Well, while you were stuck in your own mind, I decided to have some fun."_  Anti rested his body on the side of the mirror as if it was a wall.  _"Testing out your sad excuse for a body was more entertaining than I expected. Though I may have gotten a bit_ too  _excited."_  he purred, pointing to the gash on his counterpart's chest. Jack's face grew red with frustration. Before Anti even had a chance to speak again, Jack, still half nude, darted out of the bathroom and grabbed his pills out of his luggage. He held the last pill in his hand, staring at his corrupt reflection. Anti dared not to move. His entire existence was controlled by this pill. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't just take this right now." 

 _"Do it."_  Anti responded bitterly,  _"If you want to get rid of me so bad, why haven't you done it yet?"_

Had he just given up? Jack narrowed his eyes before throwing the pill in his mouth and swallowing with one big gulp. Anti's image in the mirror began to dissipate and fade away from his own reflection.The whole time, Anti didn't move. He just stood there with his arms crossed and a scowl of opposition. 

_"You can't hold me off forever, Sean. You'll come around in due time..."_

 His voice lingered in his head for a few moments before dissolving away in his conscience. 

Jack walked out of the bathroom exhaling a sigh of relief. His phone sat on top of his bed along with the clothes he decided to wear. The screen on his phone lit up with a text message:

**[9:43 A.M.] Mark: "Hey, went to grab food. Meet me in the lobby, k?"**

He was always so strict with time. You'd think he'd have some sort of acclimation since Jack was normally a heavy sleeper before this whole 'situation.' 

**[9:44 A.M.] Jack: "Alright, I'll be down there in a few minutes."**

He hurriedly grabbed his small travel backpack and stuffed the essentials inside: Phone, charger, snacks, hairbrush, extra deodorant, and an additional pair of headphones. He then grabbed a black t-shirt to put on to cover the wound on his chest. As he raised his hands over his head, the stinging of the wound returned. Another annoyance, of course. Quickly opening the bathroom door, Jack grabbed some athletic tape Mark always brought with him and wrapped it around his chest. Hopefully that would keep some pressure on it to numb the pain and keep it from bleeding through his shirt. 

With a final check of making sure he had everything, Jack zipped out the door and down the elevator to meet up with Mark. 

With Anti confided back to his sub-conscience, he wouldn't let anything ruin his PAX experience. 

 

Nothing at all. 

 

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*A/N: Oooookay. We're approaching 200 views combined on Wattpad and AO3. I want to say thank you so much for reading this. I do put a lot of time and effort into making these chapters. Any and all comments, reviews, and views mean so much to me. -Dakota*  
  
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	14. Chapter 14

The drive to the convention hall was quite peaceful. Mark and Jack both sang to songs on the radio and goofed around the entire ride. Mark had noticed Jack's elated mood, contrasting from his episode only two days ago. Not wanting to mention his concern, Mark kept quiet. 

Since they were YouTubers, they got to park in a special parking garage away from the front entrance. When they walked in, they were given special lanyards with passes attached to the end signifying their status. "So," Mark began, with a pamphlet in hand, "We have a panel at noon and then a meet-and-greet at four o'clock. So we have..." Mark looked at his watch. "About an hour before we need to report to that panel. Anything you wanna do beforehand?" He asked.

"Jeez, you got everything planned out huh?" Jack retorted. "Well, I'd prefer to  _not_  be late to a panel again after last time." Mark shot back with a laugh. At the last convention Mark went to, he had lost track of time and ended up being thirty minutes late for his panel. Of course, his fans weren't too terribly upset but that didn't mean Mark felt the same way. "It wasn't even a big deal. They never held any bad feelings towards you." Jack put his hand on Mark's shoulder, "You're  _the_ Markiplier! Who could hold anything against you?" Mark took a breath and chuckled. "You're just saying that to make me feel better." "It's what I do best." Jack replied with a smile on his face. The two kept walking, looking at booths and taking some photos of merchandise. Before Jack could even try to buy anything, Mark had already began to pull him away so they'd get to the panel on time. Jack played along and let Mark be the mom-friend he truly was. 

Mark and Jack stood behind the stage, listening to the buzzing of fans out in the audience. Jack's excitement rose in his belly. Was it excitement? He didn't really know, nor did he care. He had fans to entertain! "Mark, can you hand me a water bottle?" he asked, pointing to a small blue cooler behind him. Mark nodded and threw a bottle to him. Jack chugged the water bottle as a small female dressed in all black and wearing a headset called them to stage left. 

The panel was about to start.

The roar of the audience grew as music began to play. Everyone in the auditorium felt the same level of anticipation and excitement Jack had felt. Except for maybe the nausea that followed hit him after his initial elation. Maybe he just drank the water too quickly or forgot to control his breathing. 

Who was he kidding. He had the suspicion that Anti was behind all of this. But that had to be the last thing on his mind if he was going to perform. He took his pill and they should've worked. So why was he still feeling this way? Before he could even hypothesize any reasons, he was being nudged on stage with Mark. The audience cheered and clapped when they saw Mark and Jack walk onto the stage. Mark looked to Jack, seeing he was more pale than he was backstage. He tapped Jack's leg and whispered if he was alright. Jack turned to him and gave a thumbs up under the table. After some brief introduction and an opening video, they had an open-mic for questions. After some dozen questions, Jack had began to feel increasingly fatigued. His eyes drooped and he had out his head into his hands with a stifled groan. Mark immediately wrapped his arm around Jack, trying to hold him up. People in the audience  started to ask if he was okay. The few voices of concern grew into a panicked mumble as Jack rested his head onto the table, with his arm visibly shaking.  _"Shit.."_  Mark thought,  _"Please don't do this again, Jack. Not in front of your fans!"_  

"Mark..." Jack whimpered as he held his hand out to his friend, blood staining the fingertips. "I think I need to go to the bathroom." He raised his head out of view from the audience and only to Mark. His nose was bleeding out of both nostrils, dripping into his mouth and his eyes were a bloodshot red. Mark's eyes widened and he ushered a stage manager over to guide Jack to the bathroom. As he was taken away, Mark had to calm down the convention goers and continue the panel by himself.  _"Jack, what's going on..."_ Though he smiled and laughed, Mark was terrified.

And this time, he couldn't be there to help his best friend.


	15. Chapter 15:

The stage manager struggled to keep Jack upright as they walked down the convention hall to the bathroom. Turn after turn and pace after pace, Jack's brain grows more fuzzy. "Mr. McLoughlin, I'm gonna need you to stay awake!" The stage manager insisted, as she struggled to keep him standing. She kept trying to get Jack's attention, but his eyes were glazed over and all noise seemed muffled and distant. A steady flow of blood dripped onto his shirt, dying it a crimson red. His feet began to drag as they entered the bathroom and the manager had him lay against the wall. The blood showed no signs of stopping anytime soon and Jack began to drift in and out of consciousness. The woman grabbed an empty trash bin and held it to his chest. She tried yelling something out but Jack couldn't even open his own eyes to read her lips anymore.  His head drooped into the bin, and blood pooled onto the shiny aluminum bottom. The woman seemed to have run out the bathroom, supposedly looking for a paramedic. 

He was alone again-- physically at least.

The choir of thousands of whispers sung in his head, the ringing and buzzing growing louder with each passing moment. In the bottom of the bin, Anti stared back at him. Blood eventually covered the bottom and blocked the demon's devilish smirk. His eyes burned and began to throb as more blood began to seep out nose. With the little energy he had left, he climbed himself up onto the sink, disregarding the trashcan filled with blood. The mirror presented a hideous and grotesque image of the man once known as 'Jack.'  Blood had begun to wallow up in his eyes, as if they were tears and begun to stream down his cheeks. So much warmth had filled his face, that the blood almost felt icy against his cheeks. His vision was stained red and Anti's features replaced his own. 

Time seemed to stand still as his two eyes became an amalgamation of green and blue.

 _"Did you really think..."_  Anti hissed with discontent as Jack's body was pulled towards the mirror. He tried to raise his hands to stop himself but to no success. 

 _"...That those drugs would be able to stop me?"_  his grating voice assaulted Jack's ears, almost deafening him. Anti pulled Jack's face onto the mirror, smearing blood on it reflective surface. 

**_"You're a fool if you think you'd_ ever  _get away from me."_**

His face was pushed harder on the mirror and it began to crack from pressure. A stray shard of glass threatened to pierce his eyeball as his face was pressed harder. All the adrenaline rushed to his mind and his body went limp. He was just a shell waiting for a new host to inhabit him. Jack fell to the ground with a loud thud and Anti's laugh following him into unconsciousness.

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After Mark abruptly ended the panel, he sprinted through the hallways until he spotted an EMT with a stretcher-- thankfully empty. He tried to run into the bathroom but a security guard stopped him. Moans of pain erupted from inside the bathroom but the officer seemed undisturbed by it. "Let me in," Mark shouted as he tried to shove himself past the man, "That's my friend in there!" The officer shook his head as he pushed Mark back away from the entrance. "I'm sorry, Mr. Fishbach. I can't allow you to go in there. He's not in a good condition. We have an ambulance en route." Mark's face twisted in worry and dismay. "Can I at least ride in there with him? He's staying with me anyways and I'm already responsible for taking him home." "I'll see what I can do. Just stay here for a bit." the officer replied. 

Mark sat against the wall for what seemed like forever. It remained quiet for a few minutes, the only white noise being the soft conversations between some nurses and officers. In fact, the officer that was previously 'guarding' the bathroom door was out of sight. He quickly snuck into the bathroom and peeked inside. Jack was laying face down on the ground and the only signs of life were the steady rise and fall of his chest. To his surprise, there was a nurse in there, trying to turn him back over. "Jack, holy shit..." Mark whispered. He darted to the nurse's side and helped flip him over. "You really shouldn't be in here, sir." she replied as she took Jack's pulse. "He's my friend. I gotta be here for him." The nurse shrugged and she ran some tests on his friend had Mark hold his head. His nose scrunched up as the burning scent of iron assaulted his senses. He eyes the trash bin and noticed that it was about an eighth of the way full.  _"Is that.. Jack's blood..?"_  he thought as he covered his nose with his shirt. The thought of all of that blood being his Irish friend's almost made him gag. He looked down and saw the dried trails of blood from his nose, mouth and eyes. "What happened to him?" Mark asked the nurse, "I don't know. When I came in he was unconscious and unresponsive on the ground. I almost thought he was dead from how cold he was." Now that he thought of it, Jack was incredibly cold. It would have been an honest hypothesis to think he'd already passed away from blood loss. His breathing began to grow harsher until a soft and pained groan came from Jack's mouth. To both Mark's and the nurse's surprise, he started to wake up. "Jack? Jack can you hear me?" Mark panicked. He lifted his friend up higher to elevate his head. "Mr. McLoughlin, We have an ambulance on the way. Can you stay awake for a bit longer?" The nurse interrupted. Jack's eyes pressed together as if he'd been disturbed from a good night's sleep. 

Despite him waking up, his body seemed to only grow colder and more pale and the nurse kept two fingers on his neck for a pulse. "He's.. alive. But he's still ice cold..." she was cut off by her patient. 

 

Not with words though; but with a giggle. 

 

*A/N: Aah! I'm alive I promise! I've been working on this chapter for like.. a week and a half now. I wanted to make sure everything was perfect because of the 'big reveal' Yes, I'll try to start my constant schedule but I don't know how long the next one will take given this cliffhanger. We're about to cross 500 views with Wattpad and AO3 views combined. Holy! Shit! Didn't think ya'll liked this that much. I wish I could hug every single one of you for sticking with me thus far. <3 -DTW*


	16. Chapter 16:

Mark's heart sunk into his stomach. That laugh didn't sound like the Jack he knew. "Don't look too scared, Mr. Fischbach. He could just be a bit loopy because of all the blood he lost." The nurse comforted Mark and pointed to the trash bin with blood staining the inside. "No, you don't understand. I've known Jack for years. His laugh  _doesn't_  sound like that." Fear laced itself into Mark's tone and the nurse could see the worry plastered onto his face. "He'll be fine. We'll just take him down to the hospital and make sure he didn't rupture or break anything to cause all this." She sealed her statement with a smile, "How about we set him against the wall. He seems to be waking up." Mark obliged and helped the nurse sit him upright against the wall, while Jack continued chuckling and mumbling to himself. 

Mark could actually form some words out of Jack's slurred and quiet speech. Simple words like "No," "Free," "Stop," "Wait," "Can't" and even his own name: "Mark.." 

What was even going on inside his head? His eyes would occasionally try to flutter open but would almost immediately close as if weights were tied to his eyelids. The nurse continued to call out his name and check his pulse while Mark stood back and watched. Jack's breathing picked up and he started to hyperventilate. The nurse did her best to try and calm him down. In the blink of an eye, his limbs began to twitch; most notably his forearms and fingers. "He's no having a seizure, is he?" Mark said nervously. 

"No, if he was he'd be much more stronger than this. He could having some minor Hypovolemic Shock." 

"English, please?"

She sighed. "His heart is trying to pump more blood than he has and his muscles are acting up because the lack of oxygen. If we don't get him a blood transfusion soon, he could go into comatose or even die." The word 'die' made Mark shudder. His best friend dying right before his eyes and him not being able to do anything for him. "If he was dying, how could he be talking then?" he asked. "That I can't answer. We can only wait for the ambulance at this point."

Almost on cue, two men with a stretcher barged into the bathroom and began to hoist Jack's body onto the gurney. "You're his living mate here, correct?" an EMT asked. Mark nodded and followed the stretcher out. "Well since you're here and you're his friend, you can accompany him to the hospital." Jack was put into the idle ambulance and Mark climbed in afterwards. A doctor inside stuck a needle in Jack's arm and began to put some fluid into his bloodstream. The doors closed and the ambulance headed off to the hospital.

Jack continued to babble and twitch involuntarily. The doctor continued to monitor his vitals and Mark stared at the ground in disbelief. He never thought he'd be in an ambulance during a convention with Jack on a stretcher. 

When they arrived at the hospital, the entire hospital seemed to be on alert. It wasn't like they were transporting a criminal, right? Mark checked out the window of the ambulance and saw two police officers in SWAT uniforms with drawn guns in front of the loading area. "Are they.. expecting us?" Mark asked the doctor who was aiding to Jack. He paused before speaking. "Yes. He.. has some issues. Pretty serious ones too." "Like what?" he retorted. "I can't tell you because of patient classification. Plus I don't think you'd be able to understand the severity of this situation." What severity? What the hell was wrong with Jack? Questions buzzed in his mind and doubts about his closeness to him. "I'm going to need your help with something, Mr. Fischbach." Mark turned to face the doctor who was now holding four leather straps. 

"We'll need to restrain him."

The air in the ambulance grew tense. "What?!" Mark yelled, "Why the fuck would we need to tie him to the gurney!? He wouldn't hurt anyone!" The doctor raised his hands in defense. "No, I know Mr. McLoughlin won't hurt anyone. But there's someone else who  _will._ " 

"Someone else? Who the hell are you talking about!"

The doctor put a finger to his own lips and responded with a quiet whisper. "Keep your voice down. If we can restrain him before he wakes up, it'll be easier for everyone."

"But--"

"Please, Mr. Fischbach..." he sounded desperate.

With a small huff, he took two of the straps and began to strap Jack's legs down. "Make sure they are as tight as they can go. We can't take any chances." Mark hesitated but followed the instructions. He gripped the two straps and pulled hard. He then tied them to the bottom of the stretcher and the doctor soon followed. 

Jack began to stir. The twitching and mumbling had begun to cease and was now being replaced by a small groan of pain. "He's waking up," the doctor sharply observed, "Mr. Fischbach, I'm going to ask you to step out of the ambulance and go inside. You may follow behind me into the hospital." Without another word, the ambulance doors opened and Mark was greeted with pointed guns and scared medical workers. "He's no threat! Take him inside!" the doctor behind him yelled. Another doctor took Mark's hand and led out the vehicle and into the hospital.  As he was ushered away, Jack's stretcher was taken out and a crowd of doctors blocked his view of him. Inside the main waiting room, there was no one to be found. Police officers were stationed at every door with guns drawn. Whatever what was happening to Jack, it was serious enough to attract the attention of armed forces.

He was sat down in the waiting room, another doctor emerged from behind a closed door. 

"Mr. Fischbach, my name is Dr. Wright. I'm Jack's personal psychological well-being practitioner. I'll need you to come with me. I have a lot to explain to you before you find out for yourself." 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notice the repetition. =)

________________________________________________________________________________

_"What's happening to him? What's going on?" A female voice cried out, "What's happening to my son!" Muffled sobs rang through the hospital room. A warm presence was felt on his cheek. "Sean, honey, please wake up. Mommy needs to know you're okay..."_

_"Mrs. McLoughlin, he can't respond. We've told you this already. That isn't your son."_

_"No! I know he can still hear me! I know he's in there!" she screamed, "Sean please! Open you eyes for Mommy!"_

_A faint wrestling could be heard as the woman screamed in sorrow and the warmth on his cheek faded. "Mrs. McLoughlin, we're going to ask you to step out of the room and join your husband."_

_"Please, let me see my son! I don't want to leave him alone like this!"_

_"It's for everyone's safety. Now please go outside..."_

_The cries and whimpers grew more and more distant as the woman left in the room. Only the doctor was left. "Doctor Wright," another voice spoke up, "We have the medication on its way. It could be the only shot of getting him back."_

_A pause._

_"Sir?"_

_"Let me know when it arrives."_

_"Yes, sir."_

_Another pause._

_"Sean, we're going to get you back... I promise"_

________________________________________________________________________________

Mark sat down in an office with the now named Dr. Wright. He adjusted his glasses and handed Mark a small file. "He talks about you a lot, you know."

"Excuse me?" Mark replied.

"Sean. He really depends on you. That's why I'm giving you a copy of his file. I know that if anyone could help him it's you, Mark." 

He skimmed over the contents of the folder. Just some normal doctor's notes, information on Jack's body and condition, and... psychological assessments? 

"What are these for? Does Jack have some kind of mental illness?" he questioned.

"In a way, yes." Dr. Wright replied. "I've been caring for Sean since he was a child. He has this.. thing inside of him--"

"Like a parasite?" Mark interrupted. 

"No, more like another person inside of him." he said as he adjusted his glasses for the second time, pushing them harder to the bridge of his nose. His pale face and his nervous tone didn't really help Mark keep calm about the situation. 

"I wanted to label it as Multiple Personality Disorder or even Schizophrenia. But he never fell into either distinct category." he pulled out a small audio recorder that looked like it was pulled straight from the 1990's. "I think if you just listen to this, it will make some more sense.." Mark took the recorder and pressed the play button. 

The audio player crackled to life, with a soft maniacal giggling as the background noise. 

"Sean, I'm going to need you to answer me."

No response. Just the giggling.

"I'm not speaking to Sean. Am I?"

The giggling turned into a small chuckle of amusement. "Oh, Doctor. It doesn't take a detective to figure that out." 

That voice... It sounded like Jack. But Mark knew it wasn't him. It was too malevolent and cocky to be the Jack he knew.

"I'm tired of being shut away like this, Doc." Jack murmured with a chuckle, his voice grating and quite unpleasant to the ear. "He can't hold me back like this forever.. and when I do get out of here, you'll be the first person to see what happens when you try to get rid of me."

"This isn't even your body. You made him try to kill himself."

 **"Shut up!"**  Glass could be heard shattering in the background. Jack's outburst made the audio cut out and the player stopped working. Even Doctor wright couldn't tell if that was Jack or this other  _thing_  speaking at that last moment.

Mark sat dumbfounded at what he had just heard. "That's not him..." he stammered, "That's not  _my_  Jack." Dr. Wright nodded. "I felt the same way after meeting  _him_." 

"Is it true that Jack... tried to commit suicide?"

The doctor gave a solemn nod and Mark began to tear up. He never knew this about Jack. It felt as if Jack's entire persona was shattered by this one revelation. 

"He was sixteen," Dr. Wright interrupted Mark's thoughts, "before I put him on his medication. It kept this thing inside him under control. But I never thought it would return as extremely as it did."

"So this has happened before?" 

"Yes, but ever since he was put on his medication, he's lost most memories of what happened to him. I hoped that if he couldn't remember anything about these events, he'd have a chance to live a normal life."

Like an intricate puzzle, every piece fell into place inside Mark's head. His faint memories of the night they'd hung out, and even past experiences where he would forget key details or even memories of things they'd done together.

"I suppose you've seen him take these pills?" Dr. Wright inquired.

"I mean, I've noticed he took them but I never thought they'd be.. well whatever they actually were." Mark responded with a blank stare as reality still continued to implode inside him.

"I tried to make them as discreet as possible so people may have thought they were standard medicines for his health; like an allergy medication." he explained, "They aren't completely open to the public, however. I had to take this to a medical council and explain my reasoning. They went over every boundary and limitation I had to follow or else I could lose my job and Jack could have been locked away in a mental asylum."

Mark covered his face with his palms. The doctor rubbed Mark's back in reassurance. "I understand how hard this is to listen to. But I promise that we can get him back.." Wright's encouragement was cut off by a loud and insane laughing and multiple frantic voices yelling things like "Hold him down!" and "Someone clear a pathway!"

Dr. Wright stood up from the distraught Mark. "I'm going to ask you to stay in here, okay?" he requested, "I'll come get you when we find a room for him." He then darted out the office to follow the stretcher away.

Jack was clearly awake and he appeared to be thrashing around as many workers and nurses attempted to hold him down. Mark stopped for a moment to look up. He was met with a pair of neon green eyes instead of his friend's normal blue. The stretcher had moved past the office and Mark felt himself freeze up.

 

 

That  _wasn't_  Jack...


	18. Chapter 18

An empty void surrounded Jack. He felt completely powerless against his alter. He could see everything going on around him but all he could do was watch. When his eyes met Mark, a chill ran down his spine. He heard the familiar cackle and knew Anti had just come back to torture him again. 

 **"Looks like your _boy toy_  is worried about poor little Jackaboy." **he laughed,  **"Too bad he's too afraid to come help you this time."**

His voice seemed to be coming from every direction but with no source. He hated how Anti referred to Mark as 'boy toy.' In fact, it made him want to vomit every time he mentioned the damned nickname. 

 **"I have a feeling that doctor told him everything about us..."**  Anti hissed,  **"It explains his scared disposition."**

"He's not scared of  _me_." Jack whimpered, "He's scared of  _you_."

**"We're the same person, Jack. If he is scared of me, he is most definitely scared of you."**

He refused to believe the demon's words. Mark couldn't be scared of him. He was his closest friend!

 **"If you keep denying it, It'll only hurt worse when he finally abandons you once and for all."**  Anti's voice grew louder and began to reverberate off of Jack's skull.  **"I'll take care of this situation. Go have a pity party somewhere else."** Warm tears flowed down his cheeks as he continued to watch helplessly from the inside as he was swallowed by the surrounding abyss.

-

-

Dr. Wright looked down at his crazed patient on the stretcher. He knew this wasn't the Jack he had seen a few days prior. His laughter was ear-piercing and unceasing while the nurses and officers struggled to keep him down. 

A nurse ran up to the doctor with a tablet in hand. "Sir, we have a room available for him." The surrounding entourage all stopped in place, await instructions from him. "A normal room won't suffice. Get him an Intensive Care Unit." 

"But sir, he-"

"Do as I say.  He'll need 'round the clock surveillance."

The transportation team took a sharp turn and rushed into an elevator. The entire ride up was tense and exhausting. Wright even tried to talk some sense into his patient. "Jack, please! Try to control yourself." He was only met with manic laughter. Once the elevator stopped, the team rushed out and found the open unit. The next challenge was moving him from the stretcher to the bed without releasing his restraints. 

"Should we put him under?" One nurse asked,

"I don't think we have anything strong enough to keep him sedated." Another chimed in,

"Well how are we gonna be able to control him?" said another.

The bickering continued for a few minutes until Dr. Wright spoke up with a yell. 

"I want you to get the highest does of Amytal that we are legally allowed to use." He exclaimed, "We can't take any chance of him waking up as we transport him."

The nurses grumbled but then rushed into action. They continued to hold Jack down until a nurse returned with a syringe of the sedative. With a nod, Wright gave the signal to the nurse to inject his patient. Multiple people held down his left arm as the nurse injected the fluid. 

Slowly but surely, Jack's laughing lowered in volume to a small quiet giggle. He was almost completely out but not even that dosage could put him fully under. 

"We'll have to manage." Wright murmured, "Get him on the bed and find a straitjacket to put him in."

There was an audible gasp from some nurses. The practice of putting patients in straitjacket was long outdated and only used in mental asylums for the most unruly inmates. 

"Is.." another disgruntled nurse chimed in, "Is that even ethical?"

"I don't give a damn what is ethical anymore!" Wright snapped, "I know him. We can't be hesitant with him. Now do as I say."

A beat.

The disgruntled nurse walked out to get the jacket, leaving Dr. Wright with the remaining group of sufficiently frightened hospital staff. "I know you're all confused and scared," Wright started, his voice shaking, "but I  _know_  Jack. I've been his specialist since he was a kid. So please don't act like he's a monster." The shake in his voice made it visible he was hurting for his patient. He felt like a son to him. Having to see him restrained like a wild animal made his heart ache each waking moment he stared at him. After the tearful monologue, the nurse arrived back with the straitjacket. This would be Jack's bodily prison for God knows how long. 

With some struggle, they fitted the jacket on and bound the straps. For good measure, they also tied his chest, waist, and ankles to the hospital bed. Dr. Wright escorted the medical team out of the room and asked to have the hallway on lock down. No other patients would be allowed to use the rooms in the west hall where Jack resided. He said it was 'too much of a risk.' No one really understood what he meant but they followed orders anyways.

Meanwhile, Mark sat in Wright's office awaiting his return. When he returned, he knocked on the door quietly. But it was still enough to startle Mark quite a bit. He noticed the doctor's disheveled appearance and the sweat dripping off his cheeks. Or were those tears?

"He's restrained. We found an open room for him too." Wright voice was lacking his usual confidence. 

"Can I see him?" Mark asked as he stood up.

"You can," Wright sighed, "But he is heavily sedated. Don't be fooled by the laughing though."

Mark raised his eyebrows in disbelief. How could Jack be under anesthetics but still be laughing? "But I  _can_  see him, right?" he persisted, "I want to be there when he wakes up."

"Don't count on it being him..." Wright's tone grew dark and pessimistic. 

Mark stood up to leave. He gave one last glance to the doctor. "What room is it?"

"Just ask the officer at the elevator. Tell him you have my permission to go up to his floor." Wright responded, not making eye-contact with him. 

 _"He has a whole floor to himself?"_  Mark thought,  _"Why would the evacuate an entire floor for one patient?"_

\---

The officer spotted Mark making his way to the elevator and made him stop. "What floor?" The officer asked bluntly. Seeing a loaded gun in the officer's pocket made Mark a tad more nervous too. 

"S-Sean McLoughlin." he stammered. 

"I'm sorry. But he is off limits to anyone but his nursing staff."

"I have Doctor Wright's permission to access him. I'm his only company here." he explained.

The officer paused before moving out of the way of the elevator. "He's on the 9th floor. The whole hallway is vacant. Just look for the only lit up room."

He nodded and pressed the '9th floor' button. The doors shut and he felt the lift begin to rise. Every second felt like a minute and every minute felt like an hour. Once the doors opened, he was met with two male nurses who immediately tried to stop him. "Sir, you cannot be up here." one spoke up.

"No, no. I have Wright's permission. Since I'm the only one with him here."

He sounded like a robot spouting the same lines to an disapproving audience. The nurses eyed him suspiciously. 

"It's the last room on the left." The other nurse pointed out. They stepped into the elevator and let Mark exit. Almost without thought, Mark broke into a sprint towards the room. He felt so guilty for leaving his friend in this condition and all he wanted to do was make it up to him.

He slowed down to a halt and saw inside Jack's room. He was strapped to the bed with a straitjacket on. His dread was only made worse when he realized that Doctor Wright warning had come to fulfillment. Jack was quietly giggling like a madman.

There was a small couch in the room and Mark silently made his way over to it. He told himself he'd stay until Jack woke back up. 

 

He wouldn't leave him again. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just /love/ dialogue? Because writing it is mentally breaking me. =) -DTW

There was nothing.

An infinite void was the only thing Jack could see.

This time, he wasn't alone. 

Anti stood across from him with a toothy grin.

 _"What's going on?"_ Jack asked,

 **"Those doctor's decided to pump more drugs into us."**  The demon replied.

_"Wait... Then how are we both here? Shouldn't someone be piloting my body?"_

**"OUR body."** Anti hissed with disgust,  **"It's not just YOUR body anymore. It never was."**

 _"Well, what do we do with 'our' body in the mean time?"_ he disdainfully agreed, not wanting to upset his alter any further.

Anti moved closer to his host, making him shrink down in fear. He then sat down across from him, never breaking eye contact.  **"We wait."**

_"Can you not do anything to wake us up?"_

**"I would have done it by now, wouldn't I?"**

Jack opened his mouth but nothing came out; just silence. Anti had a point. He probably would have tried to wake up and wreak havoc whenever he had the option to. 

 **"You know, I did see Mark out there,"**  Anti spoke up, **"Thought you would have liked to know."**

Was that compassion? Why would he have cared?

**"I guess that spineless egotistical bastard really still cares about you."**

There's the normal attitude.

For the first time in a long time, Jack smiled. There was still hope that Mark cared about him no matter what.

A sudden twitch from Anti broke his thoughts. He now stood up and began to move away from Jack.

 **"Looks like it's time to wake up..."**  Anti laughed. Jack's excitement faded away realizing that he would be locked alone leaving Mark to deal with this 'other side' of him.

 **"I think it's finally time I meet your personal bitch face-to-face."** With a cackle, Anti had disappeared.

 _"You promised you wouldn't hurt him!"_  he screamed.

 **"Oh, relax. I told you I wouldn't hurt him _yet_. Besides, I think this will be quite interesting..."**  his voice echoed into the void and left a ringing in Jack's ears. 

The nothingness around him closed in around his body and he was only left with the cold embrace of his subconscious. 

_________________________________________________________________________

Anti's eyes flickered open and they weren't his counterpart's baby blue. Instead, they were his signature neon green. The straitjacket around him restricted his movement and kept him from adjusting to this new skin suit once more. 

Before he could even speak a word, he saw Mark's eyes light up. But he was looking for his  _precious_  Jackaboy.  _"Might as well entertain him. Let's see how naive he really is..."_

He thought about how Jack's voice sounded and tried to think of his speech patterns in his head. He had to mimic the weakness his voice contained and make sure it didn't break on certain syllables and pronunciations. But his eyes... was Mark keen enough to notice his eyes? Not wanting to take a risk, he blinked forcefully a couple times and tried to subdue his green irises and they now appeared a slightly brighter turquoise.

"H-Hey, Mark." Anti croaked out.

It'd have to do for now. 

Mark immediately rose from the couch and smiled. 

"Jack, oh my god..."

 _"Ugh, of course he's fucking crying."_  he whined in his head.

He wasn't wrong though. Mark's waterworks flowed at maximum capacity. You could almost smell the guilt and grief radiating off of him. Though Mark was happy to see "Jack," he still seemed hesitant to go near his friend. 

"I'm sorry.." Mark sniffled between sobs, "I-I'm sorry I left you behind.. I.. I should have stayed and.. and.. I-"

"Mark, it's alright. It's in the past." Anti interrupted. Now he needed to get the straitjacket off.

"Was it all true?" Mark asked.

Or not. 

"What was true?" Anti questioned.

"Everything.. Doctor Wright told me about.. you?"

_"He's scared."_

"Erm..." He had to say something; anything!

"Yes." Anti spat out, "Yeah, it's all true."

Mark went closer to the bed. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have tried to accommodate to your schedule. I would have moved it back a day or two if I had to!" His voice grew a little louder as he spoke.

 _"Good thing he didn't."_ he cackled to himself.

Anti didn't reply out loud, however. Too bad Mark's compassion fell onto deaf and apathetic ears. Maybe Jack would have actually cared.

"Can you.. get this thing off me?" Anti asked in the softest tone he could manage.

Mark thought before shaking his head. "I can't, Jack. Wright said it was for your own good. Not until we get those pills."

"Mark, come on!" Anti's facade began to snap. "It's  _me!"_

He didn't comply. Anti let out a small growl making Mark step back quite a distance.

The green from his irises started to bleed out, revealing the he wasn't the person Mark's sympathy had been aimed at.

"You're  _not_ Jack."

Anti stopped struggling, knowing his cover had been broken. His grin widened and laughed.

 _"Aren't you a clever boy."_  he purred.

Mark moved backwards onto the couch, paralyzed by fear. "Where is he?" he barked, "What did you do with him!"

 _"Relax, Mark. He's not gone."_ Another laugh escaped him. To him, this entire situation was hilarious to see unfold.

"He's up here." A small jerk of his head was all he could manage because of the straitjacket but he did get his point across. 

Mark paused, realizing what the impostor meant. "Let him out."

Anti just laughed. He continued to laugh until Mark got so sick of it, he left the room. 

Somewhere deep in a subconscious slumber, Jack heard the demon's voice erupt from an unknown source.

 **"He gave up!"**  Anti cackled,  **"He really is scared of you!"**

Just like that, Jack's last string of hope faded away.


	20. Chapter 20:

That laugh made Mark shudder.

It was so inhuman and not resembling the Jack he  _thought_ he knew. 

 _"You're scared,"_  Anti teased. "What are you talking about?"Mark shot back as he tried to hide the tremble in his voice.  _"I'm talking about_ him _\- Jack. You're more fearful of him than you are of me."_

Mark couldn't speak. Anti was right about how he had become more aghast about Jack's altered state than he was about the malignant impostor in his friend's body. He thought he really knew him but now, every truth and lie felt blurred together like a grey area with no defined opposition to one another. 

"Why didn't he tell me?" he quavered, "I thought he knew he could confide in me.."

 _"Well that's simple! He thinks that if you found out, that you wouldn't treat him the same. Perhaps you'd avoid him or abandon him all together."_   Anti crowed.

Mark wanted to deny what the answer was but it seemed plausible Jack would think that. "No. I wouldn't leave him. I've known him for years and I couldn't give up that friendship over someone like you."

For the briefest moment, blue had flashed in Anti's eyes. A sudden growl from him raised the alertness in Mark's posture. 

Was Jack listening to him?

 _"Seems your little spiel made him wake up..."_ Anti sibilated. He started grunting and mumbling to himself, supposedly to Jack.

Inside Anti's head, there was an incessant pounding from his skull. Jack wanted control and he wasn't going to cease his efforts. 

With one last groan, Anti gave up control. He had presumed Jack was stored away in some sad miserable hole inside his subconscious.  The green faded into a familiar baby blue and Anti's sadistic smile slipped away.

"...Mark?" Jack squeaked out, "Mark, what's go--"

"Tell me the truth.." Mark interrupted, "Why did you hide this from me? Why didn't you just tell me?" His voice sounded strained and full of hurt.

Jack hesitated, not knowing what to say. "You don't think I'm crazy? O-Or some lunatic who belongs in the nuthouse?"

Mark scooted towards the bed, seeming much more at ease. "Jack, you're one of my closest friends. I would never break this bond over some stupid secret." his voice was soft, warm and inviting. "But..." Mark began once more, "I want to know why you didn't tell me.." 

There was that damned question again. Even if Jack tried to avoid it, Mark had backed him into a corner. How would he even explain it?  _'Hey, Mark. This medication apparently prevents me from releasing this alter ego of myself that is a sadistic psychopath. Everything's fine and dandy!'_

Yeah, this would be harder than he thought.

"How much did Wright tell you?" Jack asked.

"Enough for me to be worried as much as I am." 

Jack sighed. "I can't remember much honestly. Last time something like this happened, I was a lot younger and the drugs.. almost wiped my entire memory."

"And why did this relapse happen now? That other one earlier said you.. ." Mark gulped, still frightened by even mentioning it to him in fear of it happening again.

"That bastard does nothing but lie. I've learned that over these past few days.." Jack reassured him. "What else did he say?"

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Could you not hear him? He kept saying that my motivation brought you back out.." 

He only answered with a shrug; quite difficult in a strait jacket. "I guess I just.. woke up? I really can’t remember anything besides being trapped in my own head."

"..What did it look like?" Great, now he wants to know about the logistics of being lost in your own subconscious. As if he could even begin to try to tell him  _that_.

"I don't know much.. but I do remember one thing. It was colorless; dark and empty and consuming and-" He could list adjectives to describe it for forever but he and Mark both knew they didn't have the time. Jack leaned his head back, still overwhelmed. A lone tear rolled down his cheek. "Mark, I'm sorry I dragged you into all of this."

 _"Believe me, It's better that you don't deal with this alone."_ A voice from out of the room spoke up. Both the men's attention went to the door.

Dr. Wright had been standing in the doorway, with an IV bag full of clear liquid in his hand and a clipboard in the other. 

Jack couldn't bring himself to look at Wright. The guilt had felt soul-crushing.

"Hey, Doc." Mark greeted. 

"So who did you see first? Sean or him?" Wright asked hesitantly. The comment made Jack look away. 

"The.. other one.." Mark replied slowly.

"I assumed so. But it is Sean now correct?" Wright said as he stepped closer to the guilt-ridden Jack. 

"Yeah. It's me.." Jack spoke shyly. His breath seemed labored and painful. "Do you have any of the meds yet?"

Wright shook his head. "I always tell you to take them consistently without fail because now I'll have to repeal to the council regarding this situation."

He tilted his head in confusion. "So that means?" 

Wright adjusted his glasses, hands visibly shaking. "I will not have any of your medication for a while. You'll have to manage until I can get in contact with the council."

Both Jack and Mark's hearts stopped for two different reasons. Jack would now have to deal with Anti for god knows how long and Mark would have to watch his friend be in pain and misery until the doctor had his medication. 

"Mark," the doctor started, "I'm entrusting Jack to you while I travel to New York to compromise with the council."

"Me?" Mark raised an eyebrow, "But, what if I can't control him? A-And what if--"

"Shh." Wright put a finger to his own lips. "If you two work in tandem to keep  _him_  in check, I have no doubts you wouldn't be able to handle him." He clasped Mark's hand and gave him a small white key card that glistened in the dimly-lit hospital room. "I will undo his straps and you are to take him straight to your home. From this point on, you are his caregiver until I return. Is that understood?" He aimed the last question to both of the men. Wright proceeded to walk towards the bed, rubbing Jack's tear-stained cheek. "I promise I'll be back soon. I trust Mark will take care of you." he weakly smiled. He then focuses his attention back to Mark, as he was still looking at the key card. "Take the elevator and scan the card. It will take you to a lower level where your car will be waiting for you in the parking garage."

"How did you even get my car?" Mark asked.

 "It was at the convention hall was it not?" Wright answered. "We had someone drive it over here under the impression that you were to drive home alone and out of sight of the public eye. We've already paid for the broken windshield and replaced it."

"You what--"

"That's besides the point." he continued, "Now go. I want to make sure you leave safely.  I will keep the police busy while you exit the premises." The doctor then undid the straps on Jack's body, noticing the gash on his chest now bleeding through his shirt. "Tend to his chest wound when you get home as well." 

Jack flushed with embarrassment. 

Once all the straps were undone, Wright ushered the two towards the elevator. "Be safe." he whispered. He gave one final hug to his patient before letting them enter the elevator. Mark scanned the card and the doors began to shut, the last sight of the doctor was with a single tear scurrying down his cheek.

________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: I'm still alive! Sorry this chapter was a really really hard one to write. School also bogged me down too. But I'm back! So, this one is a bit longer because I need to figure out how to write this damned scene. I''ll try to get on a consistent upload schedule but no promises. <3 -DTW


	21. Chapter 21

The ride down the elevator was filled with tense silence. 

The gash on Jack's chest stung with every breath he took. He looked down his shirt and saw the blood had stained his skin a light red. 

Once the two men stepped outside the elevator, they hurriedly made their way towards Mark's van. Jack did notice the passenger side's windshield appeared shinier and cleaner than the other. 

 _"Must've been the one they smashed.."_  he thought. 

Jack climbed into the back and declined Mark's offer to help him in, insisting he was fine and could do it on his own. He regretted those words a moment after they were uttered because of the searing pain of his bloodied wound. Mark pulled the van out of it's parking spot, noticing a small toll booth with an officer inside. "Get down." he whispered, waving a hand at Jack. He obeyed and strenuously rolled himself under the seat and onto the ground chest-down. Biting his lip, he resisted the urge to scream out in pain. Mark heard the small whimper and laid a blanket over Jack's body.

Rolling down the window, Mark showed his license to the officer and the small yellow ticket that had been left on the van's dashboard, signed 'HW.' 

"Fischbach, huh?" the officer asked, "Ain't you the one who accompanied that raging Irish fellow?"

"Oh, yeah. That's me." he muttered with a fake laugh. "I'm going home for the rest of the day, pretty overwhelmed by all of this."

The officer smiled and lifted the small orange bar that blocked his car from the road. "You drive safely, now. It's going to start raining soon."

Mark nodded before he drove off and out of sight of the officer. "Stay down til' we make it to the highway."

A muffled 'okay' was the only response. 

As he drove past the front end of the hospital, he saw the police presence had died down but there were two or three news trucks with reporters and cameras surrounding the area. "Huh.."

He turned his head to the lump on the car floor.  _"I can't let him see this,"_  he thought,  _"He'll lose it if he figures out that the news is covering this."_  For the brief moment he took his eyes off the road, he didn't notice the two male photographers going across the crosswalk. Mark slammed his foot on the breaks, barely touching the men. They both glared at Mark and he only could mouth 'sorry' and hope they didn't get too upset. 

"What happened?" Jack asked as he raised his head as the blanket falling off his poofy hair. Mark could only see him in the edge of his peripheral, but locked eyes with one of the photographers. He was met with two sets of frightened eyes.  Mark hurriedly waved his hand to get the two men to move forward. The pair nodded before quickly making their way across the street. 

Mark locked eyes with the Irishman in the backseat. "They could have  _saw_ you!" he hissed, "I thought I told you to stay down!" Jack averted his gaze down to the ground and resumed his hiding position. He couldn't tell if the new pain in his chest was from the open gash on his chest or Mark's harsh tone a moment ago. Pulling the blanket back over his body, Jack carefully laid himself back down. 

 

The rest of the ride was quiet.

________________________________________________________________________________

About an hour later, Mark pulled his van up to the hotel room. The engine's vibration came to a halt as he stepped out of the car, as the radio still continued its song. "I'm gonna go grab our bags. Can you handle yourself for a bit?" he asked as he opened the door Jack was closest to.

Jack rubbed his eyes, just waking up from his floor nap. He felt rather calm and Anti's voice wasn't present. "Yeah.." he replied, his voice scratchy from laying down in a not very comfy position, "But c-could you leave the music on?" he requested. Mark's eyes didn't show the sympathy from before. His eyes were cold and void of any emotion. He tried his best to offer a comforting smile through the exhaustion. "Sure." Mark took out the keys and left his phone with the music still going. 

_Carry on my wayward son,_

_For there'll be peace when you are done,_  
Lay your weary head to rest,  
Don't you cry no more.

He found himself humming along to the tune of the song and mimicking the sound of the guitar solo at times. His heart rate began to match the music and kept him from hyperventilating or losing focus. 

_Once I rose above the noise and confusion,_  
Just to get a glimpse beyond the illusion,  
I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high,

_Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man,_  
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man,  
I hear the voices when I'm dreamin', I can hear them say,

Now he was quietly singing the chorus of the song. Though somewhat raspy, he still managed to sing out the words. 

_"Carry on my wayward son,_

_For there'll be peace when you are done,_  
Lay your weary head to rest,  
Don't you cry no more."

The rest of the song was a blur to him. Slurring the lyrics and only muttering out some words. Hell, he even began to dose off through the second chorus. This time, it wasn't a fight for control.

 

Just sleep.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited chapter! lease read the Author's note at the end for some explanation <3 -DTW

It wasn't long until Mark returned to the van with multiple bags and luggage engulfing his body. Opening the door, he was met with Jack's unconscious body. With no hesitation, Mark put his finger under Jack's nose to check and make sure he didn't pass out.

The warm breath from his nostrils flowed over his finger and hand.  _"Still breathing.."_  he thought as he sighed with relief. Quietly, he managed to put all the bags into the back of the van and start heading home. 

For hours, Jack laid asleep and Mark drove in peace. The radio continued to quietly play its melodies. The ride home was relatively quiet as Mark continued to drive back to Jack's house. It was approaching dusk when the two had finally arrived back in Los Angeles. Rush hour traffic did extend the drive by an hour or two, so when the van pulled up to Jack's house, it was nearly dark outside. He nudged Jack awake and helped him out of the van. He noticed there was a look of exhausted fear on his friend's face. Jack took out his keys and walked inside with his luggage, slowly moving towards the interior. 

"Do you want me to stay here tonight and make sure you're readjusting comfortably?" Mark asked. Jack hesitated for a moment, his eyes barely visible through the green mop flung over his brow line. "Mark, you don't have to." he assured him. Then there was a pause; like a memory or regretful moment stung his brain. Jack didn't want to be alone again, not after everything that just happened. "I-I mean if you want to stay, you can." he mumbled in quiet embarrassment.

Mark pulled Jack's luggage from behind him. "Only if you want me here. It's your choice." 

"But what will Amy say? Won't she be suspicious? O-Or upset?" Jack retorted.

"I'm sure Amy would understand. She'd be worried sick if I came home and told her you were sick and that I had just dropped you off at home and hoped for the best." Mark reassured, "Hell, I bet she'd drag me by the ear back here to take care of you."

The two shared a small chuckle. Jack's however, was cut off by a painful coughing fit. "Let me at least help you unpack, okay?" 

Jack nodded and entered inside the dimly lit house. 

________________________________________________________________________________

Mark carried the luggage to Jack's room before setting it on the bed with a huff. Jack had already retreated to the bathroom to inspect the wound on his chest. As he carefully lifted up his shirt, the athletic tape below was stained dark red. But inside the red, there were bits of thick and viscous black liquid. He cringed at the sight of the binding and felt he wouldn't be too comfortable with the wound underneath it either. 

Slowly unraveling the tape, Jack couldn't take his eyes off of the ghastly wound. Black vein lines crept outside the edges of the wound giving it a sickly infected look. He quietly muttered "What the fuck.." to himself, turning to make sure Mark was out of ear shot. Instead, his glance made eye contact with a gaping Mark in the doorway.  

"When did  _that_  happen?" Mark asked sternly as he pointed to the wound. 

"Erm.." Jack's face flushed red, "I-It was the morning of the convention.."

"And?" Mark raised an eyebrow.

"It was him." Jack murmured.  

"You mean Anti?"

Jack nodded. 

Mark sighed and sat Jack onto the bed outside the bathroom. For the next hour, Mark tended to Jack's injury how Dr. Wright suggested to. Aside from Jack's whimpers and hisses of pain every once in a while, he obliged at Mark's incessant poking and prodding of the wound. Mark applied new bandages and helped his friend settle back in for the night. The clock on the wall read 8:30 P.M. and the two men both seemed fairly tired from the day's events.  

"I'll let you rest. If you need anything at all just call for me. I'll be there for you." Mark said as he grinned and turned off the lights, almost akin to parent tucking in their child. Jack sat silently on his bed and gave Mark a curt nod in response. Mark's smile faded from the small response nut he understood how tired Jack probably still was. He bit his lip and stepped outside the room, closing the door with a slow and drawn out movement. Jack waited until he heard the 'click' of the door and listened for Mark's fading footsteps. Once the noise had faded and Mark was far enough away, Jack released the breath he had been holding in. Sweat gathered on his brow and his breath, though quiet, became uneven and shaky. He had felt Anti trying to break through, masking his struggle with his alter through small gasps and hisses while Mark's patched up the wound. The pounding in his head grew louder and louder until it was at an unyielding roar inside his skull. 

Suddenly, he went still. Jack relaxed his body and took in a large breath, the exhale coming out in a small giggle. 

 

_"Pathetic..."_

A/N: Merry (late) Christmas and Happy New Year! I'm sorry for being so spotty with writing as of late but I've made it a mission to map out these chapters more ahead of time and give myself some pacing. Consider this my late Christmas gift to ya'll! I won't lie, this chapter may be a bit.. poorly written but I feel I did my best for this time. Tying these next chapters together was stressful and I thought I give a slightly shorter chapter to assure you all that I'm not abandoning this story yet. I've seen everyone's nice comments and It makes me feel so good that people still like my writing and are expecting me to update. Thank you to all of you. I don't know where I'd be without the support. <3 -DTW


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in a short time frame? It's more likely than you think!

****

A/N: Howdy! Just a quick head up for some mild gore in this chapter. -DTW 

________________________________________________________________________________

_A loud clatter rang through the hospital wing. Nurses cleared away from the armada of  orderlies surrounding a hospital bed being whisked through the hallway. Peeking out from the room the where the bed originated, stood two middle-aged people with the shorter and more feminine one burying her face into the the taller and presumably male person's chest. She seemed to clutch her face with her hands and softly wept into the other's grasp. On closer inspection, the woman had blood trailing down her cheek and dripped onto the white blouse she wore._

_"What's going on..." she whimpered, "What happened to my baby?"_

_Behind the couple, a doctor appeared into vision. He was carrying a small spool of thread and a surgical needle and the woman turned her bloodied face to the doctor. Across her pale peach cheek was a large bite mark wit quite a bit of flesh missing. Her hands shook as she revealed the wound, clearly distraught with grief and pain, though not clear what was the dominant emotion in the situation. The three people headed off towards another hallway hurriedly and the bed with her 'baby' left their sight._

__________________________________________________________________________________

Jack had been thrown back into the now familiar void of his subconscious, giving Anti the control he desired. Could Mark just casually talking about Anti as if he was an old friend was what woke him up? Maybe it was just the unsettled feeling Jack got when Mark even mentioned him in the first place. But then again, Jack was the one who brought it up. Did he set it off himself?

In defeat once again, Jack let himself be swallowed up by his subconscious.

________________________________________________________________________________

...

 

...

A beat. 

...

 

...

 

Another beat.

...

 

...

Anti felt the blood pump through his body. The distant sound of his heartbeat was overcome by  inhuman giggling bubbling up from his lungs. 

He hadn't felt this free in a long, long, time. 

Not restrained by doctors, or straitjackets, or even  _Jack_. For the first time, he could walk freely on his own.

Anti quickly stood up, and began to test every part of his body. Flexing his fingers, twisting and rolling his wrists, unlocking joints, and stretching his limbs. He did all of it while giggling like an excited child on Christmas day. With one loud and sudden crack of his neck, emerald green irises overtook his host's baby blue eyes. With how fluid the colors seemed to change and how the green gave a soft glow, he snapped and flexed the body like a glow stick radiating in the night. 

With quick and wobbly steps, Anti dragged himself to the bathroom. He gave himself a quick look over and his smile grew wider and wider. His left eye twitched as he continued to take in his appearance as he slammed his hand into the mirror in front of him. 

 _"How does it feel, Jack?"_ he gloated to the reflection,  _"To be merely a spectator in your own skin?"_   He let out a quiet but menacing laugh. Funnily enough, the reflection elicited no response. Anti only spoke to an image of himself and not the human he tormented. 

 _"You're lucky that I am a patient person."_  he growled at the mimicking and unresponsive reflection.  _"And I haven't killed your bastard of a friend yet. So I am still upholding my part of the deal."_  Anti's tone grew darker and he pressed his forehead to the glass surface.  _"But you never said anything about messing with him."_  His devilish grin only grew; but still no response. 

He huffed and flipped off the mirror.  _"You're still no fun, Jackaboy~"_  he laughed as he exited the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.


	24. Chapter 24

The television was turned on to the local news, with the volume just enough to block out any outside noises. Mark peered to the clock on his phone. It was late enough now to assume Jack was probably asleep and that he could retire for the night soon as well. He then retreated into his room and changed into his pajamas. While he was putting on his shirt, Mark felt a buzz in his pocket. An unknown number had texted him.

 **> [11:15 P.M]:**  Evening, Mark. It's Dr. Wright. I wanted to just check in and make sure you made it to home safely.

 _"How the hell did he get my number?!"_ he thought.

 **< [11:18 P.M]: ** Hey. Yeah I made it back to his house. I'm gonna spend a few nights with him.

As soon as he had pressed send, Wright responded immediately with almost a sense of panic.

 **> [11:18 P.M]:**  I thought I told you to go to YOUR house. Not HIS.

 _"He did say that, didn't he?"_ Mark rubbed the back of his neck. 

 **< [11:19 P.M]:**  Oh. I'm sorry. I guess I just forgot about it.

 **> [11:20 P.M]:**  No, it's alright. I had hoped that maybe if you brought him to your house, he'd be in a less 'familiar' environment.

 **< [11:21 P.M]: ** Jack and I practically live in each other's houses. We hang out too much for him to not know every corner of the house.

 **> [11:23 P.M]: ** Well, I suppose it can't be helped. Just make sure to keep an eye on him. There's been a snow delay so I won't be able to leave for another day or two. I'll let you know when I arrive in New York. 

-

 **> [11:24 P.M]: ** Don't bother saving this number either. It'll be trashed in a few minutes. I'll message you under a new number and identification. 

-

Mark was about to reply, but was cut off by a quiet, almost inaudible giggle emanating from Jack's room. He was smart enough to assume it wasn't Jack in there anymore. He felt himself freeze up for a moment.

He was just okay while he was in there! How could it have gone south so quick? He tried to call the number the doctor had contacted him with, but he was met with a dial-up tone saying the number was no longer in service. Mark shoved his phone onto his bed and began to approach Jack's bedroom. There was a faint light in the room, and the bathroom light had been flicked on. From under the crack in the door, Mark could see a shadow moving across the floor. 

With a quick breath in preparation, Mark knocked lightly on the door. The shadow had stopped moving around, its attention focused on Mark's presence. 

"...Jack?" Mark whispered, "You alright in there?" 

He knew that it wasn't Jack in there, yet he still referred to the impostor by the false name of his friend. 

 _"Go away. I'm trying to sleep."_  the voice hissed out. 

"The lights are on. I know you're not sleeping.  _Jack_  never sleeps with the lights on." Mark smirked at his 'detective' skills. Suppose that's what he deserved after being friends with him for so long. 

Mark tried to turn the handle; locked. "Anti, just open the damn door." he spat. 

No response. 

"I'm not going to ask again. Unlock the door or I'll have to break it." his tone was dark and serious and  full confidence at what he would  be forced to do.

He heard a small thump against the door and shaky, raspy breathing. Was he laughing?

 _"Answer me this, Mark."_  Anti responded through broken and wispy laughter,  _"What do you plan to do once I open this door?"_

Fuck, he hadn't thought of that. He really had just tried to hope he'd overpower Anti by intimidation rather than physical force.

"I-- Uh.." Mark stuttered.

 _"Were you always this brash? Or are you trying to be a hero?"_  Anti mocked. Mark heard the slam of a fist against the door.  _"Honestly, our last encounters weren't on the most pleasant terms."_  he rasped,  _"But I'm in a good mood right now. So instead of killing you, how about we sit down and chat?"_

"Are you insane?" Mark exclaimed _,_  immediately regretting his wording. 

 _"Quite possibly."_   He hissed through the door,  _"Are you sure you want to waste this opportunity?"_  

Mark stood up straight and carefully chose his next words. "And if I say no?" 

A quiet but cringe worthy cackle echoed from inside the room.  _"Well, I guess that's a story for another day."_

Mark knew that he didn't  _really_  have a choice anymore. "...Fine." he muttered.

 _"Then it is done."_  Anti whispered in a much more calm tone. There was a quiet 'ker-chunk!' of the door's lock and the door slowly creaked open. 

Unnervingly warm yellow light fluttered out the room with no sign of Anti having been by the door at all. Mark sighed and poked his head into the bedroom.

There on the bed, was the disgusting figure of Anti in Jack's skin. The smell of iron stung Mark's nostrils as he gazed over his old friend's form. Across his entire body, there were deep scratch marks with blood tinting the surface. His pale complexion made the colors brighten in volume and show just how deformed his body had become. Mark could feel the bile in his throat rise to just under his uvula, threatening to spill.

_"Have a seat, Mark~"_

________________________________________________________________________________


	25. An Update

 Hey. So I've been not in the greatest mindset as of late. I've lost a lot of motivation for this story. Thus, I've decided to say this story will be on an indefinite hiatus until further notice. I am so grateful for all of the support this story has gotten. I feel guilty for having to do this. But I promise I will continue it in the future. I may be releasing some small drabbles of other fandoms in the future.

That being said, I want to just thank all of you for reading up to this point. I love all of you, and I am sorry that I have to do this. I can't promise to keep a consistent level of writing when I'm not feeling my best.

 

With love, DTW. <3


End file.
